


Mr. Right

by eyemeohmy



Category: Sherlock Holmes (Downey films)
Genre: M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-27
Updated: 2012-02-27
Packaged: 2017-10-31 19:41:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/347681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyemeohmy/pseuds/eyemeohmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pre-AGoS. He, too, knew of James's power, his talents and abilities. He, too, often wondered why James had chosen him. Not some lovely, classy dame or, Heaven forbid, a bloke like himself. It was Moran he chose, and he never once regretted it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mr. Right

**Author's Note:**

> Fun thing about PWP is you don't have to focus on the plot/story part. But then I end up doing it anyway, even if it's in small doses. Well, whatever. I'm still not secure with my writing regarding these two, but here's an attempt at fluff or something close to it. Again, like all my other MorMor fics, do not take this terribly seriously or OMG COMPLETELY IN CHARACTER.

Everyone believed James Moriarty to be one Hell of a prude.

Some debated that he was celibate. Others suggested his taste in sex and romance swung a different direction. Many did not understand all together. Professor Moriarty was a highly intelligent, fiercely dedicated man with sharp wit and a silver tongue. He wasn't too bad looking, either. He was held in high esteem by officers and politicians, people of power and honor. Though he did not always appear it, he was strong, a formidable opponent both mentally and physically. The professor was rich and boasted dozens more fascinating and complimentary qualities. So it seemed odd to most everyone that such a man had not yet been married. Surely he had many suitors and admirers, and yet that ring finger remained bare.

It was only natural then that rumors cropped up regarding his sexuality. The topic was hardly ever breached in any setting, especially where the professor was concerned. So there was never room to discuss the possibilities, and surely you would be rude to outright ask. These days were not kind to those who desired people of the same sex and gender; it made perfect sense he would not say nor suggest being "one of them".

Yet many felt that was not the case - that the professor simply had not yet found the right woman. Certainly a man so accomplished and proud as he would only choose the finest of brides. No woman seemed to have achieved this yet, and the few bold ones that deliberately or very clumsily hid their affections were shot down instantly. James was not the type to beat around the bush or tip-toe around a subject: he was quick to squash any hope that he and his admirers ever had a chance together. Many respected his honesty and desire to put things to rest; some were offended and bitter. Usually those with oversized egos. Not that James cared, either way.

The truth would never be so simply, nor completely revealed. Even those closest to the professor would never quite understand his love life and the lack thereof. It was best to leave it be; if Moriarty wanted the world to know what he thought of this particular subject, he would say something. Until then, there was only silence.

However, if the many curious saw him now, they would either be highly confused or feel their claims validated.

James Moriarty was a man of grandiose splendor; nothing about him was mediocre or typical. He was intelligent, handsome, talented, respected, admired and rich. And yet here he was, shagging a dishonorably discharged, mildly famous war soldier by the name of Sebastian Moran.

Colonel once, yes, but nonetheless, with all the stars in the sky, Moran was not exactly the most brightest to shine next to James. It seemed strange he would choose someone that wasn't exactly the same caliber as himself. Others would not care; they would feel too vindicated in their claim of his homosexuality to do so.

It wasn't as if James was gay, just... Well. There are certain people, and life has a way of surprising you.

Nonetheless, the door slammed loudly behind them, punctuated by the _thud_ of James's back hitting the wall. This, too, was strange. Sebastian Moran, pinning the prestigious James Moriarty against a wall, his pristine white dress shirt fisted in his hands as he practically smothered the man with his mouth. If anything, a man of power would rather be the one holding someone down. Yet... James Moriarty held no qualms, just dug his fingers into the back of his good friend's jacket and yanked.

The two tangoed clumsily in the dark before they nearly crashed into the lamp. Sebastian swiped at the air twice before finally switching the damn thing on. He grabbed James again, their lips locking a second time, fighting almost for supremacy. It was a losing battle, as the professor wasn't even trying. His eyes were screwed shut; he saw stars, billions of stars, and if he had the time or desire, he would have loved to name and claim each and every one them all for his own.

Sunkist hands pulled James's shirt from his pants then slid beneath, up, raising to knead and palm over sensitive, prickling skin. James pulled his mouth back to gasp, tasting humid air before Sebastian dove in and took his lips again. He felt so lightheaded, so dizzy, pulling and yanking at that damn coat until Sebastian reluctantly threw his arms back and allowed it to be shoved off. Once free of it, his hands returned to their massaging, pinching and James's body curled flush against his with a deep-throated moan.

They continued scrambling, breaking their fierce kisses every few seconds just to gulp for much needed air. Their lips were wet and shining with saliva, bright bruising red. The back of Moriarty's legs hit the foot of the bed, and he unceremoniously collapsed back on the mattress. Taking this as an invitation instead of a fumble, Moran fell forward, poured himself over the professor. His thumbs working circles around nipples, to drop down and burrow them against tight, tight muscle.

James grabbed Sebastian by his suspenders, pulled him down, and his hands momentarily halted. Their teeth smashed, almost hurt, but at the same time, it sent chills running down both their spines. Sebastian shrugged, one suspender falling free; he removed his hands, nearly ripped open James's poor dress shirt, a button popping. James dropped his head back against a pillow, smirked breathlessly, "Now, now. No need to take it out on the clothes." He stretched his arms back, and Sebastian quickly went to peeling the shirt off and up over his head. He pitched it carelessly across the room, ignored the disapproving scowl. Took the professor's face in his hands, held tight and kissed him again, tongue plunging inside and tasting.

They worked and fussed with each others clothes a few tedious minutes. Sebastian finally tore himself away, quickly shoving down his trousers and undergarments, threw off his top. Moriarty's belt hit the ground, followed by his pants in the same manner as his shirt. He was naked now, almost, save his socks and the belts holding them up. Sebastian swallowed, disheveled and truly awed by the man beneath him.

He, too, knew of James's power, his talents and abilities. He, too, often wondered why James had chosen him. Not some lovely, classy dame or, Heaven forbid, a bloke like himself. It was Moran he chose, and he never once regretted it. It was as if Moriarty could clearly see the doubt and confusion distant in his friend's eyes - he practically saw all, like some all-knowing god - and he lifted his hands, took Sebastian's face again. Softer, this time. He ran a thumb over a freckled cheekbone, one finger sliding along jawline and Sebastian just breathed and shut his eyes. Placed a hand delicately over James's, turned his head to pepper his palm with grateful kisses.

James smiled and chuckled. The heat had faded, only momentarily, but neither complained. Sebastian was painfully aware of both their desires, and quickly reached over Moriarty, stretched across him to dig through a drawer of supplies. James watched him with an amused smile before propping himself half-way up on an elbow, just enough room to reach up and kiss over a skipping heart beat. Sebastian shivered and nearly fell, if not for the hands bracing and rubbing his hips.

With the small vial of warm oil in his hand, Sebastian sat back on his knees, James's legs spread on each side of them. He looked to the professor's eyes, asking an unspoken question. _Do you want me to continue?_ James need only nod, just once, short. He inhaled slowly, gently knocked his knees against Sebastian's sides playfully.

Moran chortled, thumbing open the vial's cap with a small _pop_ before depositing a fair ration of the oil in his palm. He rubbed his hands together, the liquid warming by the second, a few thin streams cutting down his wrists. James watched closely, displaying no fear or nervousness. Moran sucked in air and leaned forward, resting chest to chest with the professor. His hands slipped between them, tracing streaks down Moriarty's fluttering stomach. He winced as he took himself, stroked once, twice, the oil tingling his skin. He opened his eyes, connected with James's, before his hand pushed beneath, two fingers inside and crooking.

James took a deep breath. His body stiffened, one, two, three seconds, before he exhaled and flattened back against the mattress. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth, his hands holding onto Sebastian, haphazardly stroking along his hips and back. Moran gently nudged nose against his chin and James tilted his head forward, meeting for another slow, lazy kiss. He repressed the small noises attempting to escape as those fingers continued working, Moran's second hand returning to his own erection, pumping and prepping. He broke the kiss first, dropped his head back and down, his beard and mustache scratching against James's chest, tongue lashing against a nipple. The professor groaned, digging nails into Moran's back.

Sebastian drew back his hand, and James shuddered, just slightly. Carefully spreading the professor's legs, just a little more, hands against knees, positioning and-- James arched near perfectly, cut his small cry short with a growl. Sebastian dropped his head back, breathing, all pressure and tension suddenly swallowing him whole. They each shivered, remained firmly in place, before Moriarty slowly sunk back and Moran let his shoulders sag. He wiped the sweat from his brow and forehead, tittered at the professor's sigh.

The process went slow, and Sebastian was careful with his pace. He knew James was no delicate porcelain doll that needed fragile handling. Still, there was some pain, and he wanted to make it as little as possible. Moriarty didn't seem to mind either way, moving along with the rhythm. Finally, as the speed picked up, Sebastian spread himself back over James. Wrapped his arms around him until the man was practically poured out like silk in his embrace. Moriarty stroked his hands against his shoulders before pulling him down, arms curling around his head. They pressed completely against one another, two halves attempting to make a whole. Moran increased pace, gliding smoothly against the undulating body beneath him, skin rubbing against skin.

James rubbed one scruffy cheek to Moran's before turning his head. Kissed and nudged until Sebastian turned. Their noses knocked, bumped, lips brushing before meeting again. Kissing hard, passionately. James ground against his companion, rolling and snapping his hips, his own erection stroking itself against Moran's belly. Sebastian purred, and it vibrated against Moriarty's lips. He let one hand fall, take hold of a hip and bucked, once, twice, hard enough to send James gasping.

Finally, Sebastian snaked a hand between their grinding bodies, took James firmly and pumped. James's spine made a small curve before he fell back, burying his head into the pillows. He released Moran, groped at the back of his head. Took a fistful of hair and pulled, jerking his head back and Sebastian groaned as the professor ran his tongue and lips down the length of his throat, along a strained tendon and over the beat of a pulse. Pecked a kiss to his clavicle before he grunted, fell back to rest. He pushed up into Sebastian's hand, swaying his hips in perfect unison with his partner's.

As time wore on, and Sebastian felt climax draw near, James suddenly reached out shaky hands. Sebastian leaned obediently forward; fingers curled around his shoulders and with a pained grunt, James pulled himself to a sit. Sebastian quickly helped him balance, hands at his hips, sliding him into his lap. He grunted at the new pressure and weight, but then James was riding again, grinding into him. He shut his eyes, hissing through clenched teeth and the professor grabbed his face, yanked him into a kiss. 

Something short before James bit hard into his bottom lip and Sebastian nearly yelped, more surprised than anything. He looked at Moriarty, who simply grinned and took another nibble at one corner of his mouth, rubbing whiskers against whiskers. Moran smiled, his head swimming; he stuck out his tongue, sweeping away a droplet of blood, before James took it in his mouth, rubbing muscle against muscle.

Sebastian was the first to come; he looked desperately into James's eyes, pleading. James nodded, caressed lips across his forehead. A minute later, Sebastian's arms wrapped tightly around the professor, held on as he spilled inside him. James grumbled, winced at the sensation; he settled, and Moran was panting, chest heaving against his. Not for long, and Sebastian felt as if he were drowning when Moriarty kissed him, sucking away the last of his breath. His hand mechanically took James, stroked and stroked, only half-aware what he was doing. Head still swimming as he tried to breathe and kiss at the same time.

James came a minute or two later; Sebastian ignored the mess against his stomach, and Moriarty didn't seem sorry nor ashamed. They sat there for a while, letting their bodies restart, cool down. James twitched before suddenly pushing himself free, falling back on the bed. Moran nearly toppled over but caught balance, hand idly wiping away the semen streaking his belly.

"We are," James swallowed hoarsely, folding hands quaintly over his chest, "ruining the sheets."

"A good wash and they'll be fine."

Sebastian was content just to stretch out on the mattress, relax. James, however, somewhat of a neat freak, hobbled off to the bathroom. When he reappeared, he was clean, still nude. He tossed a wet cloth to Moran, who smiled and wiped the drying substance off his stomach. James laid back, carefully, his back throbbing in low heat. He groaned into the comfort of the big, fluffy cushions, though the smell of sex and the wet patch of sweat beneath him was slightly discomforting. He just closed his eyes and decided to ignore it, for now. A good wash, they'd be fine.

Moran laid on his stomach beside the professor, tapping fingers on the thick blankets. He sized the man up before scooting in closer. One arm crossed over James's chest and he allowed himself to be pulled over; Sebastian planted a dry kiss to his cheek, beneath his ear. James scowled. "Your insufferable stamina," he snapped, but it was free of malice and irritation. More playful.

"No," Sebastian reassured, smiling against Moriarty's throat. "Enjoyin' the afterglow, s'all." He didn't care if James thought he was "acting like a woman"; he was notorious for cuddling, especially after sex. Damn what James thought, he continued holding him tightly regardless.

James sighed. "Well, then, I suppose I ought to join you." Sebastian smiled before suddenly a hand was against his chest, shoving him aside. He grunted, and James was quickly on his feet again. " _After_ a bath."

Sebastian rolled onto his back and cursed. "Bloody ruin the mood, why don't you?" he quipped, reaching for his cigarettes in his trousers.

"Little too late for that, my dear."

END

**Author's Note:**

> ehhh whatever i don't know  
> i know traditional romance may seem weird with these two but at the same time, i can see it  
> just something simple sometimes  
> decided FUCK IT and used a buttload of name variations for the sake of my sanity or something
> 
> also i decided to try and be a little more, uh, hmm... clean? modest? less graphic? with the descriptions. aka no cocks, assholes, etc. idk it just feels..... weird. with these two. well, it wouldn't be the first. oops, blushing virgin and all that.


End file.
